


vacation, all i ever wanted

by shivadyne



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Contact, M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 06:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18046871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shivadyne/pseuds/shivadyne
Summary: When Jim woke up that morning, he sat up and stared at the shadow hovering over him for a few minutes while trying to blink away the image of an elf and a human’s deranged lovechild from his tired eyes. Well, that was only if the guy’s pointy ears and far too human eyes had anything to say about his heritage. For all Jim knew, maybe the guy was a Sith Lord with really weird-looking ears.“Uh,” Jim said, rather eloquently. “Can you… come back later?"





	vacation, all i ever wanted

**Author's Note:**

> based on this prompt: http://sxizzor.tumblr.com/post/138898751249/runawaysandtidalwaves-ok-so-like-imagine-an
> 
> i just sort of slapped together an ending bc i have had this unfinished monster sitting around for an eternity. accept my meager offerings of road trip nonsense
> 
> side note: i didn't fine-comb this bad boy so if you see any errors and wanna point 'em out, i'll love you forever

When Jim woke up that morning, he sat up and stared at the shadow hovering over him for a few minutes while trying to blink away the image of an elf and a human’s deranged lovechild from his tired eyes. Well, that was only if the guy’s pointy ears and far too human eyes had anything to say about his heritage. For all Jim knew, maybe the guy was a Sith Lord with really weird-looking ears.

 

“Uh,” Jim said, rather eloquently. “Can you… come back later? It’s like,” he looks over at the clock and lets out a quiet groan at the sight, “4 in the morning, really? That’s just unnecessary. You can even stand here and watch me like a creep, I don’t care, do your Edward Cullens impression all you want as long as I get another couple of hours.”

 

“I do not— Edward Cullens impression?” the elf guy asked, not budging an inch. Jim could have sworn he wasn’t even breathing. Or blinking. God, that wasn’t creepy at all. “I am Spock of Vulcan and I wish to speak to the person of highest authority on this planet. I insist that you to take me to them.”

 

 _Holy fuck, I’m being given the “take me to your leader” speech. And… possibly threatened? I can’t tell if that’s a threat or if he just looks this intimidating all the time,_ he thought even as he tossed a tired grin up at him and asked, “Like… The Queen? Ooh, or the president, Number One… Gotta love that lady. She’s real easy on the eyes and even easier to be terrified of in Congress, probably. I dunno, haven’t really kept up with politics what with the whole being in a little place we like to call Bumfuck, Iowa thing and all.”

 

“Yes,” Spock said succinctly, seemingly ignoring most of the words he was spewing in favor of the answer to his question. Not a very fun guy so far, this Spock. He asked, “We are in… Bumfuck, Iowa as you say? I had been under the assumption that I was beaming down to an area that the locals called Texas.”

 

“Texas would have eaten you alive,” Jim said. “Here in good ‘ol Iowa, you might want to watch out for the cornstalks, though. Those kids are always coming out and ritually murdering every adult they can find. It’s a shame, really; you’d think they’d have grown out of it by now.”

 

“Ritual murder?” Spock asked, the horror in his face quickly being washed away to return to that blank slate. Jim snickered into his palm.

 

“You are performing what the humans refer to as a “joke” in common colloquial terms,” Spock concluded after a moment. He was looking kind of pissy now, if Jim was able to read his non-expressions correctly. “Cease this.”

 

“No,” Jim cheerfully replied and then snuggled back into his pillow, closing his eyes and deciding sleep was exactly what he needed to deal with this. “If you’re that cranky, come on and join me. I’ll face this whole Vulcano situation later because it’s a Saturday and I’m not going to stay awake this early in the morning, even for a pretty elf like you.”

 

“I am not an elf nor am I this volcano of yours. I am Vulcan,” Spock said, sounding unreasonably affronted. Jim squinted up at him and noted that the pissiness had risen to intolerable levels, but ignored him anyways.

 

Spock sighed gustily. And then the bed dipped as he sat down to stare at him like a total Vulcan creeper while he slept.

 

Jim fell back asleep fairly easily, all things considered.

 

                        

 

“So… roadtrip?” Jim asked around a bite of cereal, watching as Spock examined his surroundings out of curiosity. He’d offered the guy a bowl of cereal as well, but Spock had taken one look at the box of Count Chocula and glared at him as if he’d somehow offended his delicate Vulcan sensibilities.

 

“I suppose,” Spock agreed, rather grudgingly. “Would some sort of… aircraft not be easier?”

 

“I’m a broke Engineering major, man,” Jim told him, rolling his eyes. “Do you really think I can afford it? Like… c’mon, I can’t even afford cable. And honestly? I think if I take you to an airport, you’re going to cause a mass panic. Roadtrips are way less noticeable and with this,” he tossed a beanie at Spock who caught it and stared down at it in confusion, “we won’t even have to worry about anyone noticing those pointy ears.”

 

Spock took a moment to consider this, narrowing his eyes at Jim as if he could tell whether he was being lied to just by staring at him long enough. For all Jim knew, maybe he could. Then, he gave a tight nod and pulled the beanie over his head, making sure to cover his ears.

 

Jim grinned at him and said, “That’s more like it! Hey, you don’t have any plans for world domination or anything, do you? I mean, since you said you “beamed” down here, it’s not as if you’re like ET and just need me to help you back home. Oh, are you, like, a runaway? The ‘rents piss you off so much you had to go take a spin ‘round the galaxy to blow off some steam?”

 

Spock raised an eyebrow and asked, “Why would I wish to take over your planet now? I know next to nothing of its inner workings.”

 

Jim shrugged as he tossed things into a duffle bag before throwing it over his shoulder. Spock was all defensive under that poised and calm exterior—also kind of prickly, like a cactuar—so he took note of the way that he’d neither denied or agreed on being a runaway. He tossed Spock a bag of Doritos. “Is that a yes or a no, then?”

 

“It is a… possibility,” Spock replied, catching the bag and examining it with an intense scrutiny that Jim didn’t think a bag of Doritos really deserved. “One that I have considered thoroughly. It remains to be seen whether it is a plan that I will ever put into action, Jim Kirk of Earth.”

 

 _Great, I’ve got a conflicted alien on my hands and he doesn’t even look like Thor,_ Jim thought. He considered texting a SOS to McCoy behind his back, but he’d always wanted to meet aliens and this one didn’t seem like he wanted to hurt him just yet. He’d let it all play out before alerting his Georgia-bound friend to a problem. “Just call me Jim, okay? None of that Jim Kirk of Earth stuff.”

 

Spock didn’t seem inclined to say anything to that so Jim just sighed, grabbed his car keys, and lead the way out to his beat-up car. It was a beauty underneath that damaged exterior, running purely on clean energy just because someone told him he couldn’t do it and, well, what type of Kirk would he be if he refused to live up to a challenge like that?

 

Jim threw the stuff in the backseat and got in, suddenly wishing that he had a GPS. “You don’t happen to have directions on that fancy piece of technology you’ve got, do you?”

 

Spock frowned over at him, though he quickly returned to his task of rifling through the glove compartment. Jim wasn’t sure what he was even looking for in there. There were some crayons from when Joanna was visiting, a wrench, and possibly Scotty’s rambunctious kitten that he’d drunkenly named Keenser.

 

Well, okay, probably not Keenser. He really hoped that the little guy wasn’t in there. That would be hard to explain to Scotty. Dude might think he was a catnapper or something.

 

“Okay, yeah, I know I wasn’t supposed to look at it, but you just left it there, right in plain sight, and maybe I checked it out a little? All I could tell was that it scanned things and analyzed them. It’s not as if I could do a full-scale inves—” Jim halted abruptly, remembering that he’d stuffed a map in the glove compartment when he’d been planning on making his way up to Georgia to visit a certain cranky doctor just a couple months ago. “Uh, hey, check for a map in there, Spock.”

 

Spock pulled it out, staring down at it for a moment before he rummaged around for a pen and only came up with a sharpie. He started drawing out a route for them to take, not paying any attentions to Jim’s complaints over there being a shorter route. He examined it and stated, “If I have to account for the human need to take constant breaks, it should take us an estimated 16 hours to reach the Green House.”

 

“It’s the White House, Spock. Green houses are completely different things.”

 

“Ah,” Spock said, pulling something out of his pocket and… oh, good, he was taking notes.

 

 _Yeah, this is gonna be real fun,_ Jim thought with a sigh as he shifted in the leather seats, turning the key and starting the ignition.

 

 

 

“I can’t believe the most interesting thing we’ve seen so far was a river,” Jim grumbled as he drove in the dark, mentally bemoaning the fact that he lived in Iowa where absolutely nothing happened unless it involved a lot of ducks, for some reason, or some town called Blue Grass that was possibly even less interesting than Riverside had managed to be.

 

“There were many ducks,” Spock stated as he tried to examine the map in the dark. Jim was a little disappointed to see that the guy didn’t have those creepy and luminous cat eyes, but turned on the overhead light for him in a rare act of kindness.

 

“Ducks are evil,” Jim replied as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, itching to turn on the radio to ease the boredom. He mentally told any lingering ideas of restraint to go fuck themselves and turned it on, switching to a channel that wasn’t talking about baseball or filled with the off-key, drunken singing of a man that sounded suspiciously like Frank. “They don’t count.”

 

“There appears to be a hotel nearby,” Spock observed.

 

“Yeah, near that big-ass lake,” Jim agreed, driving past it without even looking back. “I’m pretty sure I’m banned from there, casino and all. Flirt with a guy, act like you’ve never bluffed in your life, and pull out the royal flush when some idiot puts down a couple thousand because they think they’ve got it in the bag… Man, I’m a little disappointed I got kicked out, honestly. That was fun.”

 

Spock made no comment, but Jim was pretty sure he was judging him with his eyes.

 

Eventually, they found their way to another hotel. It was cheaper and there was probably mold growing under the walls, maybe even on them if that weird splotch by the elevator wasn’t just a bad paint job. They made their way up to their room, sliding in the keycard with ease.

 

Jim was so tired that he didn’t even care if there were bedbugs.

 

Spock had taken it upon himself to scan and analyze everything, however, so Jim left him to it as he kicked off his shoes and collapsed on top of the covers. He mumbled, “You’re driving tomorrow, weird space alien or not.”

 

Spock said something that could’ve been either agreeable or totally offensive, but the words were all blurring together in Jim’s mind as he fell into a restful sleep.

 

He woke up later on in the night to the feeling of eyes on him so he looked up, noticed that Spock was doing the creepy “I’m-watching-you-sleep” thing again, and sighed before rolling back over. _He’s worse than all of Scotty’s cats combined,_ he thought before he fell back asleep again.

 

The next morning, they spent a little while hanging out at the pool. Spock hadn’t wanted to, but he’d mentioned something about underwater fungi and Spock had become much more agreeable at the idea of something new to poke at with his weird device.

 

After that, they were off again with Spock behind the wheel.

 

 

 

“Hey, an ice cream place! Spock, let’s stop, c’mon. I want to introduce you to Rocky Road.”

 

Spock sighed, long and deep. _He looks very pained,_ Jim thought. Deeply, deeply pained by his companion in this whacky adventure that wasn’t really turning out to be whacky at all. It was actually kind of boring, honestly, except for that time when Spock got out of the car and ended up getting chased around by a bunch of angry ducks.

 

“So… is that a no?”

 

Spock pulled over and glared at him. Jim beamed back, quickly getting out and returning with two ice cream cones.

 

Turns out chocolate makes Vulcans extremely drunk. Who knew?

 

 

 

A hung-over Spock, as it turned out, was even more irritating than a normal Spock.

 

“I can’t exactly turn the sun off,” Jim told him, ignoring the way that Spock flinched away from the light and covered his eyes. “Just go sleep it off in the back and pass the Doritos up here. I’ll drive us for a while.”

 

Spock nodded, stepping over the center console between them. He pushed the duffle bag over to the side, handing the bag of Doritos to Jim who sat them nearby and started eating as he drove. Spock might have berated him for it, but he’d been kind of off with the whole hung-over thing.

 

Jim glanced back to see that he’d curled up in the backseat already with his arm held over his eyes to shield them from the light.

 

Spock slept for a couple hours, waking to the sight of Jim licking excess Dorito powder off his fingers. He flushed green and Jim said, “If you’re gonna puke, roll down your window or something. You have motion sickness or something?”

 

“I do not have a pressing need to vomit,” Spock told him, kind of snottily. “I have purged my body of most of the effects of this “hangover” that you speak of through a weak healing trance.”

 

“A healing trance,” Jim repeated. “The Vulcan cure to hangovers, huh? I need one of those.”

 

Spock just glared at him.

 

“Not feeling talkative?” Jim asked, shoving more food into his mouth. He set to licking his fingers again and didn’t seem to notice the way Spock’s eyes followed the movement. “Sorry about getting you drunk, man. I mean, if it was on purpose, I’d have made sure we were both drunk so I could cross it off my bucket list, you know?”

 

“…Bucket list,” Spock repeated. He was still a little green in the face and Jim warily made sure the back window was rolled down.

 

“Yeah, the list of things you want to do before you die. There’s a reason a bunch of old ladies start skydiving when they hit their 70s,” Jim replied, glancing over at him. “Well, okay, unless it’s those old ladies that are in Scotty’s knitting circle. He swears they’re all just regular old ladies, but I fucking swear Nancy’s carrying a gun in her purse and I’m definitely sure Deborah’s killed a guy. She just has that look in her eyes.”

 

“You had drinking with an alien on this “bucket list” of yours?” Spock asked, pausing unsurely and probably wracking his big Vulcan brain for a logical explanation behind the rest of Jim’s words. “I am unsure how to respond.”

 

“Yeah, buddy, no one knows what to think of Deborah. McCoy swears up and down she’s a serial killer, but Scotty won’t hear a word about it. I guess she does some really cool intarsia technique and Scotty will literally murder us alive if he doesn’t get to learn it from her.”

 

“Your friend threatened to murder you… alive?” Spock asked, expression flickering from horror to confusion and then finally landing on blankness again. “I do not understand. Why do you continue to associate with him if he is a threat to your livelihood?”

 

“Danger’s my middle name,” Jim shot back with a grin. “Threats to my livelihood are pretty interesting, but at least with Scotty, I don’t think he’ll kill me… yet. He lets me stay alive because he needs my genius brain to finish our current project.”

 

“Your current project?”

 

“We’re pretty much just fucking around with theories right now,” Jim said, shrugging his shoulders. “Not a whole lot to say about it. A lot of people are trying to understand warp technology, but Scotty has his own ideas for, like, transwarp beaming and he wants to test them out on his neighbor’s chickens. I’m still trying to convince him that it’s a bad idea because his neighbor will shoot us both in the face with his shotgun and then we’ll never figure it out.”

 

“Transwarp beaming…” Spock frowned. “He plans to test this out on live animals?”

 

“Yeah, you guys are probably lightyears ahead of us, huh? I’m sure someone already did that ages ago back on your planet,” Jim replied, sighing. “It would be nice to see what advanced alien ideas are going on in that Vulcan brain of yours.”

 

“That could be possible,” Spoke said after a moment. He looked like he was contemplating something. For all Jim knew, though, maybe he just had to use the bathroom. He couldn’t really be sure with how expressionless the guy could be. “There is a method of sharing information known to Vulcans called a mind meld. According to the prime directive, I am not to interfere… but I suppose I have already broken that by now.”

 

“That sounds pretty bad,” Jim commented. “Are you, like, breaking some kind of huge protocol back on Vulcan by being here?”

 

Spock shrugged.

 

“…Wow, okay, that’s really helpful. You just never stop saying all these helpful things that let me figure out what the fuck you’re doing on our planet or why we’re even driving all the way to the White House to begin with. If there’s some sort of intergalactic war going on, we’re not going to be able to help.”

 

“You asked why I was here,” Spock said, seemingly content with ignoring Jim’s rant in its entirety. Jim made a face at him, but that went ignored, too. “I intended to take over this planet to anger my father. However, upon further analysis, I have begun to realize that this plan may have been slightly illogical and I do not know if I wish to follow through.”

 

“Uh, newsflash, Legolas! Taking over a planet to piss off your dad? Super fucking illogical. What the hell? I know having daddy issues sucks, but you really should’ve tried something else. Maybe start aggressively joining a Vulcan yoga class every Thursday and not try to get me involved in a roadtrip towards world domination. I’m only 19, man, I don’t need this shit until I’m in my fucking 30s.”

 

“I am 22 years of age,” Spock replied. “Since I have completed the kahs-wan many years ago, I am considered an adult. Is this not the same on Earth?”

 

“Uh, how many years ago are we talking here?” Jim asked him. “I’ve been legally considered an adult since I turned 18.”

 

“I completed the kahs-wan at 7 years of age.”

 

Jim stared at him. “…Okay, so we’re talking human years here, right? Not some fucked up Vulcan aging cycle where you age in… fuck, I dunno… sweeps or something.”

 

Spock’s eyebrows rocketed up high on his forehead and he made no verbal response.

 

Jim chuckled to himself. “Referencing at aliens, still funny.” He frowned. “But… seriously, I don’t think this whole world domination scheme is something I can be a part of.” He pulled over on the side of the road, turning off the car and sighing. “Hey, if I give you a quickie in the backseat will you leave our planet alone do you think?”

 

“I am unfamiliar with such a term,” Spock stated placidly.

 

Jim blinked. “You know, sex. Fucking. The hanky panky.”

 

Spock curled his lip into a snarling expression like a feral cat, which Jim supposed was the rich person version of a stink face or maybe a murder face. “I will not. Cease offering your body to me in exchange for the safety of your planet. It is highly illogical.”

 

Jim smirked, fluttering his eyelashes at him in blatant mockery. “Make me.” He leaned forward against the wheel. “Maybe it’ll remove the severe case of stick up the ass.”

 

“I do not have—” Spock seemed to realize he was being fucked with. “Your excessive facetiousness is vexing and inconvenient, due to the language barrier between us.”

 

“I don’t give a shit.”

 

Spock unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed across the divider between them, hands rising to press against his temple. “My mind to your mind, my—”

 

Jim smacked his hands away. “Hey! No mind whammying! I’m an independent American idiot—“

 

“You have stunning intellectual capabilities—“

 

Jim reached a hand up, covering Spock’s mouth. “And I don’t need you fucking around in my head.”

 

Spock flushed green, seemingly unsure about how to handle the situation.

 

Jim suddenly noticed the position they had ended up in and pulled his hand back before trying to become one with the back of the seat. He didn’t get far. “Are you trying to intimidate me sexually because let me tell you, it will not work and you will be sorely disappointed!”

 

Spock leaned forward, a hand cupping the back of Jim’s head as he drew him into a brutal kiss before starting to basically ravage his mouth like he was a dog licking at a jar of peanut butter but a bit more sensually.

 

Jim made a strange startled noise that got swallowed up quickly and then they made out like absolute idiots on the side of the road for a long, long time before he finally pulled back. “What the hell.”

 

“You have many desirable traits. I wish to understand you, inside and out. Allow me to see into your mind.”

 

Jim scrubbed at kiss-bruised lips angrily. “Leave my planet alone first, you fucker!”

 

“…These are acceptable terms.” Spock held his hands back up to Jim’s face, murmuring, “My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts—“ and suddenly Jim felt a presence in his mind, fluttering through in pulsating hot and cold which left him shuddering. Then it was gone.

 

Jim just stared at him in shocked and confused silence.

 

Spock nodded. “You are the perfect bond-mate. I intend to make amends with my father. I will remain here to avoid backlash and court you in the meantime.”

 

Jim rubbed at his eyes, wondering if this was all just some really elaborate nightmare. “Bond-mate. Court me.” He looked at Spock, who stared back at him without a hint of dishonesty in his expression. “Fuck it. Whatever, romcom the fuck out of me. The Kirk genes have won even the freaky alien’s heart. Hashtag planet saved.”


End file.
